Canadian Occupational Safety

FEBRUARY/MARCH 2018 17 the general population but normal for corrections, says Ricciardelli. The tool cannot provide a diagnosis but it does allow the worker to print the results and take that to a certified professional. The anonymous and confidential tool can help corrections workers realize they may need to seek mental health support. "There's no light that goes off and says, 'You're getting depressed.' We're the last one to know. It's gradual, you don't notice yourself changing," says Ricciardelli. "This (tool) could suggest that some- thing might be up; go check it out." PEER SUPPORT Many institutions have formalized peer support programs to help corrections officers deal with difficult situations. In Alberta, more than 100 cor- rections workers are trained peer supporters. These workers may refer their colleagues to the employee assistance program (EAP) or other local resources in their community, such as distress lines, helpful non- profit organizations, support groups or local mental health professionals with a known track record for treating first responders. "We're not Dr. Phil. All we can do is we acknowl- edge and refer," says Fagan. "It's just trying to get back that sense of community where we're all look- ing out for each other." Peer supporters may also be trained to support employees after a critical incident. Employers need to be mindful of what workers are chosen as peer supporters. In Rutley's case, she was not comfortable using the peer support program, so she would opt to discuss her struggles with a friend. It's important to get a broad cross-section of people for the peer support program, so that every- one can have someone they would feel comfortable talking to, says Fagan. "It's like junior high: Your alpha male is only going to talk to your alpha male; your quiet person's going to talk to that person; the veterans will talk to other veterans," he says. RETURN TO WORK Whether a worker is off on workers' compensation, short-term disability or long-term disability, a robust return-to- work program can help the employee come back to work when it's safe and comfortable for him to do so, Dufresne- Meek says. CSC has return-to-work advisors in each of its six regions who provide support to employees and managers and work with the insurance provider and the union to determine the best time for the employee to start looking at returning to work, she says. Employers might want to try easing workers back in, says Carleton. "Throwing someone in cold water is not usually a good idea. It's probably better to grade someone back on: 'Come back and let's get you back used to the steps.' And I would do it with the sup- port of a mental health professional providing the tailoring for that indi- vidual because everybody's different." A key component of supporting work- ers with mental illnesses is following up with them. It's important that manag- ers call the workers who are off so they do not feel isolated. Fagan notes there's often a lot of calls at the beginning of a worker's leave, but then the calls become less fre- quent. The longer someone is off work, the harder it is to come back, Fagan says, so maintaining regular contact can help maintain the worker's relationship to the workplace. "I try to beat the drum: 'Let's make sure that nobody falls through the cracks' and I think the managers have been creating a culture where if a per- son's been off, they call them just to see how they're doing. It's a simple thing," he says. Godin acknowledges it can be difficult to find suitable accommodation for correctional officers returning to work. "We do our best, but there's not enough options for us. We are limited basically to what's inside the institution and that's a bit complicated," he says. "We're always looking for other options." As of press time, 50 correctional workers are off work at the Regional Psychiatric Centre in Saskatoon due to work-related stress and injuries, says Godin, so accommodating that many workers is a challenge. In general, if employers can keep people "working and engaged" then they should do exactly that, says Carleton. For example, when workers in the Alberta corrections system are going through a tough time and they are getting burnt out, they are told to speak up and say they need to work in an easier area for a while, says Fagan. In May, an inmate at Millhaven had his throat slashed and it hit a major artery. Blood was splat- tered everywhere — the most blood Rutley had ever seen — but it was not being cleaned up. Rutley was trying to remain calm and just do her job, but she was required to walk around the blood throughout her shift and it proved to be more difficult for her than expected. "It was like playing hopscotch throughout the night," she says. "After eight hours of stepping over this, the blood started to smell and coagulate and then the flashbacks started and the smells; everything started to come back from the shooting in 2011." A couple days later when she went back to work, she was put in the mental health unit. She protested and said she did not think she could handle it, but the response was, "Well, everybody has to take their turn," she says. During her shift, an inmate who was known for significantly harming himself was literally pulling out his guts. "At 8 o'clock that morning when we got back from the hospital, I unloaded my weapon, I did every- thing and I said, 'Book me off for the next two nights because I'm done.' That was May 26 and I haven't been back," says Rutley. "I can't go back, the thought of it makes me throw up… I don't want to deal with inmates, I don't want to deal with self-injurious harm anymore, I don't want to see anybody get beat up or stabbed anymore. I am done." Rutley is currently taking classes online through the University of Guelph in Ontario for horseman- ship. Learning how to trim hooves and perform first aid on a horse has been a welcomed change of pace from the institution. Rutley regularly goes to the country to ride her horse and try out her newly learned skills, something she finds to be a great ther- apy for her PTSD. While Rutley doesn't see herself going back to the institution any time soon, she continues to share her story in the hopes of bringing awareness to the mental health struggles of correctional officers. Looking forward, she would like for there to be less red tape for officers who are trying to get help for their psychological injuries, more support and ongo- ing care. When it comes to her own future, Rutley would love to start up an equine business, but she just doesn't feel up to it quite yet. "I've just kind of suspended everything right now," she says. "I shouldn't be feeling like this. It should be everyday I wake up, 'Yippee! I get to go massage a horse' or 'Yippee! I get to trim a hoof' or whatever, but some days are even hard just to get out."

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